Where art thy thorns?
by Barabbus
Summary: Collection of short drabbles and oneshots about various characters. Idea inspired by Conversation Hearts. Reviews!
1. Lord Voldemort

**I don't know how this will turn out, but whatever. Here's to Conversation Hearts. **

Sometimes he wondered if there was a reason for his existence, or if he was merely created to destroy. Was evil truly a choice, or was it fate? Death had always been his worst fear, but what living without a purpose was worse. He could never truly live with such fears in his mind, but yet he would not dare to let himself become mortal. How he despised himself, yet he despised the one who had made him beyond all else. Why had he been such a fool?

Only one choice remained. Lord Voldemort would have to kill the boy.

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	2. Albus Dumbledore

He was consumed in his own regrets, his own deep thoughts. When you were as wise as he wise, you felt more alone than any ordinary man. Nobody could understand him, and nobody knew his pain. What guilt, what shame he felt because of what he had done, what he had not done. What was he to do? He knew, as he always had, but what would make him feel better? As if it mattered. It was never wise to go by emotions...

And so Albus Dumbledore chose not to do what was easy, but what was right. Even if it would cost him his life.


	3. Remus Lupin

**Here's a fic I wrote just to add to my number. Enjoy, review, whatever.**

He ran out into the cool evening air, regretting his nature more than he ever had. Why did things have to be so complex? Why couldn't he have a time in his life when he could go through time without worrying about when he would become a literal monster?

As if there was any reversing what had happened. As if he would have thought himself higher without the curse. He was not fooling even himself. Why did he even try? Those simple lies were so pathetic and feeble, even the most oblivious man in the world would not be reassured by them. Perhaps he thought himself stupid enough to believe. He most certainly _wanted _to be that naive.

What was a man to do, then, to satisfy a hunger that would never go away, a need that could never be met? Could he forget such things until the vital times came; could all the lies in the world cover unhealable wounds? Even his own friends could not offer reassurance, however desperately and diligently they may have tried. But he would never tell them that. Even their effort meant more to him than even his own life.

As the full moon rose in the night sky, Remus Lupin surrendered himself to the monster bursting from under his skin.


	4. Severus Snape

**It seems that nothing can stop me at the moment - or at least, nothing has. **

**I dedicate this chapter to Litha Goins, the latest of my family to pass into the next world. May I not put her to shame.**

He prepared himself for another day, knowing that it would drag on just as much as the last. The rest of his life would be this way, miserable and painfully slow. Sometimes he would have to lose himself simply to move from moment to moment, to keep the pain from killing him completely.

Why did they trust him, why did they accept him? He was a worthless, cruel shard of a human being, he himself saw to it that they thought of him that way. Even he knew how horrible and heartless he could be; in fact, from childhood's hour he'd doubted his worth. It was only natural of them to do the same.

But there had been one who had found his true value.

He remembered her all too well, his only friend. What a girl she had been, with her kind eyes the color of ivy and deep red hair to match the fire in her soul. She had always been there for him, she had always showed him the light in even the darkest realms of the Earth. Lily.

Why had he been such a fool as to let her go? Her friendship had been the most valuble thing in his life - no, it was more than that. Her friendship _was_ his life. Even after she was gone, it was the remains of her that kept him alive.

He let the ones who surrounded think whatever they thought of him. Their opinions didn't matter, after all. Lily's son was all that mattered. He would keep the wretched boy alive, if it took his life. Harry Potter. The very symbol of his idiocy. And the only part of Lily that had survived the curse. It was time to defend him.

Severus Snape vanished into the night, ready to end it all, wishing he'd never been born.


	5. Fenrir Greyback

Like an animal going in for the kill, he lunged for the child.

It wasn't that he did not like children. On the contrary, children were mor eutterly delicous to him than anything else. Of couse he was not losing his mind. No, he'd lost the remains of his sanity long ago. Only poison was left. Well, that and an an insatiable appetite. Was he not more important to himself than some stranger?

A smile crossed his lips. Not human. Not any more, anyways. That man was dead. Only the monster remained. Fenrir Greyback, the feral ferocity that had swept the nation, was very much alive. And soon Remus Lupin would join him.

Vengeance was far sweeter than any chocolate.


	6. Death

**Sorry it's been so long... I've been busy. But here ya go... Reviews would make me think I'm not a loser...**

Endless regrets were pouring from my soul; everything seemed to be wrong. What had made everything like this? Where had the mistakes been? To whom did the guilt belong? As if I did not know. As if I had not been waiting for such foolishness.

Everyone had been wrong, really. Tom should have made better choices. Merope should not have deceived love. Severus should have chosen better friends. And I should have been less greedy. But then, what else was there for me? How could I choose another paths, when I could not so much as cross any other way? I was trapped in my own personal hell - and they had fallen along with me.

Then there had been the "heroes", those who had saved the day with the wave of a wand. They had their cliche happy ending, though I would consume them anyways. What had they possessed, aside from a victory? No extraordinary powers, like the others. They had love, the thing that confounded even I, and they had the choice to win. The things that make the difference are the paths we choose. How very pathetic.

What was there to sustain me, then, when I found those who had nothing to fear? Nothing would move them, and that rendered me powerless to them even in their darkest hours. But time was on my side, at least. It stole from them, but to me it did nothing but provide a reason to exist. To destroy. That was why I lived. To take things away when the moment was right.

Forever I would live, or until some reprieve came. But what was there? I could not escape through even death - _because I was death._ I was my best friend, my worst enemy. I was sick enough to enjoy the conflict with myself from time to time - but then, who in society would not do the same?

Again, another job for me. Until the end of time... _The last enemy to be destroyed is death._


End file.
